Bronson, pottering in, presently, was told that he would not be needed. "Mr. Derry telephoned that he would be having supper after the play at Miss Gray's. You can call him there if he is wanted."
"Thank you, Bronson. Good-night."
When the old man had left them, she said to the General, "Do you know that your son is falling in love?"
"In love?"
"Yes, desperately—at first sight?"
He laughed. "With whom?"
"Dr. McKenzie's daughter."
"What?" He raised himself on his elbow.
"Yes. Jean McKenzie. I am not sure that I ought to tell you, but somehow it doesn't seem right that you are not being told—"
He considered it gravely. "I don't want him to get married," he said at last. "I want him to go to war. I can't tell you, Miss Merritt, how bitter my disappointment has been that Derry won't fight."